


Best of You

by red_jaebyrd



Series: Better Together [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Batbrothers (DCU), Batbrothers Bonding (DCU), Batfamily (DCU) Feels, Batman 16 missing moment, Canon Temporary Character Death, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Gen, Good Big Brother Dick Grayson, Good Brother Jason Todd, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Past Child Abuse, Protective Dick Grayson, Protective Jason Todd, References to Forever Evil (Comics), TW suffocation, Tim Drake is presumed dead, Traumatized Damian Wayne, tw strangulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:35:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29419494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_jaebyrd/pseuds/red_jaebyrd
Summary: Dick is doing his best to keep his brothers safe and happy following the aftermath of their losing fight with Bane. But it’s only a matter of time before he too crumbles under the weight of trying to keep it all together.
Series: Better Together [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2164308
Comments: 2
Kudos: 94





	Best of You

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you [ BrokenHeartedQueen](/users/%5BBrokenHeartedQueen%5D/) for your awesome beta skills.

It had been a week since Dick, Damian and Jason had gotten back from the Fortress of Solitude. Fourteen days since Bruce had shipped them off to the Fortress to recover from their injuries. Fifteen days since Bane had beat up each of them within an inch of their life and hung them by their necks in the Cave.

Once the boys had made it to the Manor and into their own familiar surroundings they had remained in each other’s sights. Neither of them ever leaving the other alone, they were completely attentive to one another. No one had questioned it or commented on it. Even if they had, Dick didn’t care. Both of his brothers needed him and he was going to be there for them in any way he was capable. 

Jason had moved back into the Manor temporarily. He told Dick it was just until Damian started to feel safe again. But Dick knew Jason needed to be around them too.

Dick knew it was just an excuse to stay in close proximity to them. He didn’t call Jason out on it, because truthfully, he liked having Jason around. He liked knowing that Jason was close and safe with them, instead of somewhere outside Gotham in a safehouse alone.

Dick’s concern for Damian increased within their first week back at the Manor. Damian had always practiced hypervigilance when it came to his surroundings whether he was on patrol or in the Manor. It had been part of his training with the League and in turn had become a part of his personality. But ever since the incident with Bane and the hanging, Damian’s hypervigilance had morphed into paranoia. He always insisted on triple checking every room he entered and was jumpy to the touch.

After the first week back Dick and Jason had eased his burden by taking on the first and third room checks. This helped some, but Damian still flinched with every hand on his shoulder or back.

The three of them weren’t on patrol duty yet as Bruce had benched them for three weeks to heal from their injuries. Dick played Cruise Director by organizing activities for both himself and Damian leaving room for Jason to tag along, which he often did. Dick made sure to schedule in exercise to keep their muscles conditioned and downtime either in the library or the media room.

Lately much of their evenings were spent together in the media room watching a movie. On movie nights Dick and Damian always sat together on the couch in the center. Alfred the cat and Ace the dog would always follow them into the room to provide their own brand of comfort. Jason preferred to sit in the back of the room where he could keep a close watch on his brothers and the closest exit. He had even brought in a small table to use as a gun cleaning station.

On movie nights Damian had always fallen asleep first. It wasn’t surprising considering the dark circles under his eyes and his quiet demeanor. The teen hadn’t been getting much sleep at night since they had gotten back from the Fortress. On their first night back Dick had been ripped out of a deep sleep to the sounds of screaming and crying coming from Damian’s room. Adrenaline had torn through Dick’s chest as he frantically rushed to reach his little brother’s room.

The sight of his little brother clawing at this neck and gasping for air had ripped Dick’s heart apart. It had been a sight he had hoped he would never have to see again. Instinctually Dick had climbed into the bed and held Damian close to him whispering reassurances into the young teen’s ear. Damian’s whole body trembled as he clung to Dick like a life line until his sobs turned into hiccups. Dick had finally allowed the adrenaline crash to overtake his body forcing him to curl up in the bed with Damian and fall back to sleep.

After that night Dick had suggested that Damian sleep in his room. He had expected Damian to put up a fight; argue staunchly that he wasn’t a child who needed the comfort of an adult after a bad dream; that he was more than capable of taking care of himself. However, to Dick’s surprise, Damian hadn’t the energy to argue. Instead, had just nodded, grabbed his duvet off his bed and followed Dick into his bedroom. 

They didn’t tell Bruce or Alfred about the nightmares. Damian had made them promise. But Dick knew that Bruce could hear the screaming too.

Dick knew that if there was ever going to be any healing from this incident, especially with Damian, they all needed to talk about what had happened to them. Of course that was easier said than done. Dick knew better than to think that the other two would go for it. Jason would stop coming around to avoid sharing his feelings and Damian would shut down and refuse to talk. Ideally Dick would need to be the one to initiate the conversation to get them to open up.

Truthfully, deep down Dick didn’t want to talk about what had happened to him either, but he knew he had to for Damian’s sake. The boy was spiraling quickly before his eyes, turning into someone Dick didn’t recognize and it was starting to scare him. Dick had to do something even if it involved dredging up old memories of a time in his life he would like to stay buried and forget.

Except Dick couldn’t forget what had happened because now he had fresh rope burns to accompany the old scars from the last time a rope was fastened around his neck. Thanks to Bane those old memories that had once been buried were now fresh and new every time he closed his eyes to go to sleep. Old triggers Dick once had under control were now at the forefront of his mind eliminating any progress he had made in the last three years to overcome them.

Dick had just started wearing scarves again this past winter. He had missed the warm, familiar feeling of the handmade scarf Barbara had made for him all those years ago. The way the soft fabric would protect his neck from the cold onslaught of an unforgiving Gotham windchill. He loved that scarf and it was a welcome relief to be able to start wearing it again, but now that had all changed. Right now he could barely tolerate wearing a crew neck t-shirt.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, Bane had one of his goons cover Dick’s nose and mouth while Bane had hung Damian first and then beat the shit out of Jason. He had made Dick watch helplessly as his brothers suffered while leaving him to slowly suffocate. Dick had started to panic when he couldn’t breathe and clawed at the meaty hand covering his nose and mouth, but the bastard had held firm. Dick’s lungs burned as he gradually lost consciousness just as Bane had strung up Jason. 

No, Dick didn’t want to talk about any of this stuff with Damian and Jason. However, he knew he had to if he was going to help his brothers heal. This was another reason why he encouraged movie nights, and hoped maybe one of these nights Damian would open up.

It had been a week and Damian had barely said anything more than two word sentences to either Dick or Jason. Bruce had tried futilely to get Damian to open up to him, but soon handed the reins of communication back over to Dick. The irony of Bruce trying to get Damian to open up wasn’t lost on Dick. The more Bruce pushed Damian to talk, the more Damian shut down further frustrating Dick.

Dick was positive that on one of their movie nights Damian would eventually open up. He wasn’t rushing it, but Dick had hoped that Damian would start to feel relaxed and comfortable enough to talk; and to Dick’s surprise it had worked.

“I never did have the tolerance to withstand the chokeholds from my trainers,” Damian muttered completely out of the blue one night. He kept his eyes on the TV screen and his hands stroking the sleeping cat on his lap.

“You’re not…” Dick cleared his throat, nearly choking on his soda. “…you’re not supposed to have a tolerance to strangulation, Dami.”

“ _ I _ am. It was part of my training and the only skill I couldn’t perfect,” Damian continued, pulling at the collar of this shirt. “One time Mother had a trainer hang me with a rope. It was so tight it dug into my neck and I panicked like I always did when something was round my neck,” Damian choked out a sob at the last word. “I asked her to call it off, to make him stop but she ignored me. I eventually blacked out. I woke up in my chambers with rope burns around my neck and a migraine. She said I was a failure; that tears and whinging was a sign of weakness; and therefore a disgrace to the Al Ghul legacy.”

Dick put his arm around Damian. He could sense where this conversation was going; that there was some unresolved guilt for actions Damian was incapable of stopping that horrible night. The boy turned into the embrace leaning into Dick’s chest.

“You are not a failure, Lil’ D. There is nothing you could’ve done to have stopped what had happened to us.”

“I was trained to be the best, Richard,” Damian insisted, gripping Dick’s shirt. “I can fight blindfolded. I can manipulate my organs to avoid major injury, I can even hold my breath for six minutes, but I could never stand to have anything around my neck obstructing my airway. I was not good enough.”

“You are the best at everything you do, Dames,” Dick comforted, kissing the top of Damian’s head. “Your mother’s standards don’t matter here.”

They watched more of the movie in silence. All that could be heard was Damian sniffling and the occasional thud of Jason cleaning his guns.

“I used to get nightmares about it. Feeling the rope tightening around my neck and not being able to breathe,” Damian confessed, tugging at the collar of his shirt again. “Now the nightmares are back and I cannot get them to stop.”

Dick’s whole body tensed at hearing Damian recall the feeling of the rope around his neck. His palms started to get clammy as he remembered Super Woman’s barbed lasso tightening around his own neck as he struggled to breathe and stay conscious. Dick still had the scars from the barbs sinking into his skin. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Now was likely a good time as any to share what had happened to him.

“Me too, kiddo. I get it, but talking about what happened helps. For me that…that wasn’t the first time I had rope tied around my neck either,” Dick shared, rubbing his hands nervously along his thighs. “There was an incident with the Crime Syndicate a few years back. Super Woman, an evil, twisted version of Wonder Woman had a lasso; she called it the ‘The Lasso of Submission’. It stung and burned when she tightened it around my neck.”

Ace climbed up on the couch next to Dick. Sensing Dick’s distress, he put his head in Dick’s lap. Dick welcomed the added weight of the dog and dug his hands into Ace’s fur. The sensation helped to ground Dick so he could continue.

“It wasn’t an ordinary lasso. It not only had the power to  _ make _ its subject submit to the wielder’s will it also had magical barbs that sunk into skin and held the lasso in place,” Dick pulled down his shirt collar to reveal old white faded scars that peppered along his neck among the healing rope burns from two weeks ago.

Damian’s eyes widened at the sight of Dick’s neck.

“I couldn’t wear scarves for three years and I still can’t wear turtlenecks,” Dick confessed, righting his shirt collar.

“Turtlenecks make you look like a douche…no offense,” Jason chimed in from behind them.

“Thank you for the fashion tip, Jason,” Dick sighed, craning his neck to address Jason.

“Anytime, Dickie,” Jason replied, not taking his eyes off the task of cleaning his guns.

Dick turned his attention back onto Damian.

“Thank you for talking to me about what has been bothering you,” Dick whispered, squeezing Damian into a sideways hug. “I know it wasn’t easy, but talking it out helps to get the bad stuff out of our heads.”

Damian shook his head.

“Talking about my past with the League serves no purpose other than to showcase my weakness and my inability to maintain control over my emotions. Complaining about past events that I cannot change feels futile and pathetic,” Damian said, his voice cracking at the last word. “However, lately those past experiences are all I can think about since the incident with Bane in the Cave.”

“Talking about difficult experiences and working through the trauma caused by those experiences is not a sign of weakness, Dames,” Dick comforted, keeping his arm around Damian and leaning his cheek on top of Damian’s head. “It takes a lot of strength to admit that you need help and the support of your family to help you through this time. I’m always here to listen and help you in any way I can. Okay?”

“Okay,” Damian replied, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

Silence fell between the brothers again while the rest of the movie played on. It had surprised Dick that Damian would bring up something so personal about himself in front of Jason. Still Dick was proud of Damian for opening up. It had only seemed fair that Dick reciprocated with his own fears and nightmares. Perhaps it would help encourage Damian to open up more with him in the future.

“Is the kid asleep?” Jason asked, making his way to the couch.

Dick looked over and could see the slow rhythmic motion of Damian’s chest rise and fall as his breaths came in deep and even. He could also hear the soft sounds of snoring and feel Damian’s body completely boneless leaning against him.

“Yes,” Dick answered, feeling the shift of the couch as Jason sat down next to him and Ace.

“It’s good that the kid has you to talk to about this,” Jason said, gently petting Ace’s head. “Lord knows he’s not going to talk about this shit with Bruce.”

“You have me too, Jason,” Dick assured, nudging his elbow against Jason’s ribs.

“I know, Dickie,” Jason answered, grabbing the Blu-ray remote and thumbing through the main menu.

“Do you want to talk?” Dick asked.

“No,” Jason answered, keeping his eyes focused on the TV.

Dick nodded. Jason would open up when he felt like it. At least Dick hoped Jason would one day talk to him about the hanging and how it was affecting him. Dick wondered if that was why Jason had asked if Damian was asleep.

“Did – did the League train you –,“ Dick asked, motioning to his throat. “-for that too?”

Jason looked at him with blank eyes but Dick could see the muscles working in Jason’s jaw. Jason turned his attention back to TV as he continued to fiddle around with the main menu options until he found the ‘Special Features’ menu.

“No, but Willis always liked going for the neck,” Jason responded candidly.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are  _ you _ sorry, you didn’t do it,” Jason retorted.

“No, but, I’m still sorry that happened to you,” Dick empathized.

Jason kept his focus on the TV and swallowed thickly.

“I was supposed to wake him up so he could leave in time for a job. ‘7’clock sharp you little shit, or we don’t eat for a week,’” Jason’s lip curled in disgust retelling his story. “He was out cold and wouldn’t wake up. I had to get on top of him and shake him. He woke up in a rage and I wasn’t fast enough to get out of his way. He grabbed me by the neck and squeezed hard until I saw spots.”

Jason paused to pick at a loose thread on the arm of the couch. He cleared his throat before continuing. “I remember clawing and scratching at his hand to get him to let go. It only pissed him off and made him squeeze harder. He finally let go when Mom hit him over the head with a frying pan. Never woke him up after that day, but it didn’t matter. He always went for my neck.”

Dick didn’t know what to say to Jason, which was rare considering Dick always knew what to say to everyone. He knew Jason’s dad was an abusive drunk. Jason never talked about his time with his parents before coming to the Manor only vague stories of his experience living on the streets. This was the first time Jason had ever opened up about his dad. It was probably better to just state the obvious since empathizing only pissed Jason off.

“Your dad was an asshole for doing that to you,” Dick said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah well, others have done much worse,” Jason said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Dick didn’t need to be reminded. He lived with the guilt every day that he wasn’t there to protect Jason from the “much worse” and the guilt only grew in intensity as he glanced at the angry red rope burns on Jason’s neck.

“I’m so sorry,” Dick mumbled, his bottom lip trembling.

“Why do you keep apologizing? It’s fucking annoying. You didn’t  _ do _ anything,” Jason snapped.

“ _ Exactly _ , I didn’t do a fucking thing the whole time that asshole beat the shit out of you and Damian,” Dick blurted, glancing at Damian’s sleeping form. The sleeping boy stirred and shifted his position away from Dick to lean against the couch arm. Dick lightly carded his fingers through Damian’s hair.

“I didn’t do anything but watch as he strung up both of you in the Cave by your necks,” Dick continued, swallowing the lump forming in his throat. Ace whined and put his head back in Dick’s lap.

Jason turned sideways on the couch so he was facing Dick and gently placed a hand on Dick’s shoulder. The contact was welcome, but Dick didn’t feel like he deserved it.

“ _ Stop _ , Dick, is this about  _ Bane _ ? You  _ couldn’t _ do anything. I don’t – do you think we blame you for what happened?” Jason asked, tilting his head to get Dick to look at him. “This wasn’t your fault. Why are you shouldering this?”

Dick choked out a sob before catching himself. One hand reflexively reaching into Ace’s fur, with the other he scrubbed the wetness from his eyes with his sleeve.

“I couldn’t protect you – again,” Dick muttered, tears streaming down his face. “It’s my job to protect my brothers,  _ all  _ my brothers. I couldn’t do that for you or Dam –“

“- because that Motherfucker had his goons restraining and smothering you,” Jason interrupted. “Bane knew it would fuck you up to have to watch.”

It was true. Bane was a genius when it came to mentally and physically breaking his adversaries. He knew he could destroy Dick just by having him watch Damian and Jason get hurt. And by all accounts Bane achieved his objective. As much as he tried, Dick couldn’t get the images of his brothers’ bruised faces and beaten bodies out of his brain. Not to mention the guilt of being unable to do anything to stop it was eating him alive.

“I know you want to protect us, Dick. I know you wanted to be there for Tim. We all did, but even you have your limits,” Jason continued. “You can’t shield us from everything. Shit happens with this life and this job.  _ We _ signed up for this.  _ We _ chose as a team to defy the Bat and go after Bane. How were we to know we’d be walking into an ambush? Fucker’s a menace.”

Dick shook his head and clenched his jaw.

“I know what we signed up for,” Dick countered, pointing at his own neck. “I have all the scars to prove it. But I didn’t sign up to not feel safe in my own home. I didn’t sign up to hear my youngest brother screaming every night from a nightmare, clawing at his neck and gasping for air.”

_ Or see that my other brother is unable to go to sleep by himself without all the lights on. _ Dick kept that last statement to himself.

“I didn’t sign up for that,” Dick repeated, shaking his head.

“Yeah,” Jason agreed, leaning his head back on the couch and blowing out a breath.

“I’ve never heard you talk about the Crime Syndicate before,” Jason said, changing the subject. “Was that – was that the first time you told anyone what had happened to you?”

Dick nodded and curled in on himself. It wasn’t a pleasant incident to think about, much less discuss with anyone even if he considered them to be a safe person and Jason was safe. Aside from the trauma of having a barbed lasso around his neck and getting smothered to stop his heart to diffuse a bomb; there was also the shame of falling so easily into their trap and the indignity of having his identity exposed to the world. It was easier to just keep the humiliation and trauma to himself.

“I thought it would help Damian open up and – ,“ Dick answered, petting Ace with both hands. “I probably should have talked about it sooner. But –,”

“- you thought it would be easier to just keep things to yourself,” Jason said, finishing Dick’s sentence. “I get that, but Dick, I know you. You need to talk things out and you didn’t talk about this to anyone? Not even with Alfred?”

“I couldn’t –,” Dick repeated, shaking his head.

“You know you have me right? if –if you ever wanted to talk,” Jason offered. 

Dick couldn’t believe what he was hearing from Jason. It must have shown on his face because Jason’s eyebrows shot up to his forehead in surprise.

“What?” Jason asked. “What did I say?”

“Jason, I know  _ you _ and you hate talking about feelings and stuff,” Dick responded, tilting his head and furrowing his brow.

Jason briefly shifted his attention to the TV pointing the remote and turning it off.

“I hate talking about  _ my _ feelings,” Jason gestured to himself. “But I know  _ you _ need to get that shit out or you’ll explode.”

“Thanks,” Dick replied, giving Jason a small smile.

“So, do you  _ want _ to talk?” Jason asked, reaching for the nearly empty bowl of popcorn sitting on the ottoman.

Dick considered the offer. It meant a lot coming from Jason. Jason didn’t offer himself like that to just anyone. Dick had overheard Jason giving Tim the same offer a few months ago. He wondered if Tim was able to take him up on that offer before – before he died. There was no doubt Dick would one day take Jason up on his offer, but not tonight.

“Rain check?” Dick asked, leaning his head against the couch and rubbing his eyes. “I’m pretty beat.”

Jason nodded. He turned the TV back on and began scrolling through Netflix. Dick closed his eyes and started to let himself drift allowing the pull of sleep to overtake him.

“Just promise me you’ll never keep shit that big to yourself again,” Jason said, breaking the silence.

Dick opened his eyes and sat up; an idea quickly coming to his head that would also benefit Jason.

“I promise, but you have to promise too,” Dick countered, holding out his hand to seal the deal.

Dick could see the wheels turning in Jason’s head. His eyes widened as he realized that Dick had just tricked him into agreeing to do the very thing he hates, talking about his feelings. Jason’s shoulders sagged.

“Fine, we have a deal,” Jason huffed, shaking Dick’s offered hand. “Don’t get any other bright ideas.”

“You know, if we wake Damian we can probably get him in on the deal too,” Dick joked.

“Don’t push it, Big Bird,” Jason said, throwing a handful of popcorn at Dick.


End file.
